Oh, How the Mighty Fall
by somekindofwildgirl
Summary: The real world had no place for fantasies. [Mary Stuart x Francis Valois; The Games We Play, revived]
1. Chapter 1

Due to unfortunate events, my dearest friend **Katelyn Mauntel** had to give up writing. It bothered her that her story _The Games We Play_ was left unfinished, but she does not have the time to complete it. A huge fan of her story, I have offered to step in and finish it (to the best of my ability). Kate agreed and has given me her notes. Our writing styles are quite different, but I hope that you will accept this consolation prize as I try to do this story justice.

I will not tell this story in the same way she did and although certain things have changed, the essence of the story will remain the same.

She wanted to thank you all for the support you have given her and still checks in on your reviews from time to time.

* * *

Author's Note: My story will follow a different format, so we can skip ahead to where Kate left off. Let me know what you loved and disliked about this story and I will take it into consideration in my revival. I can't promise that I will update regularly, but I will try my best.

* * *

 **Oh, How the Mighty Fall**

by somekindofwildgirl

* * *

 **Prologue**

 _"The greater the power, the more dangerous the abuse." - Edmund Burke_

Power changes everything.

When Mary Stuart was a child - safely tucked away in the convent - she wondered what type of queen she would be. She quickly decided that she would be a fierce warrior that liberated Scotland from the English once and for all. Her days were filled with dreams of charging into battle at her husband's side, a sword in hand and yelling "For Scotland!". Her marriage to the King of France would be a happy one, their rule starting a golden age for their countries. The history books would be filled with her achievements, inspiring the future generations to come.

Despite her pleas, the nuns refused to teach her battle formations or weaponry. They filled her days with the rigorous studies required of her station. She learned how the courts were run, the powerful European families, and the required qualities to be a good wife. As the years passed, she spoke less of her dreams until she stopped all together, much to the delight of the nuns. But hidden deep within her, the desire to be an independent queen burned inside her like a flame.

This desire fuelled her once she returned to French court, but as the days passed, she learned how far-fetched her warrior queen dreams were.

It didn't take her long to realize that the real world had no place for fantasies.

The light within her was snuffed out.

 **Please review.**


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you to **Iamtheconfusedone, rinnie21** and **Guest** for leaving wonderful reviews! It gave me the inspiration to continue writing this story.

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 **Author's Note:** I am experimenting with story formats, so I chose a unique way to write this story. Let me know your thoughts!

I am also working on another Francis/Mary story. It was intended to be the first chapter for this story (which is why this update took so long), but it took on a life of its own and will be posted as another story. It will be written in a novel format. Stay tuned for it!

* * *

 **Oh, How the Mighty Fall**

by somekindofwildgirl

* * *

 **Chapter One**

One week.

Seven days had passed since the nun at the convent had died for Mary. No one cared or offered their sympathies. She lit up one candle in her bedchambers every night, offering prayers and gratitude, hoping to make up for the lack of appreciation Sister Agnes was receiving for her courageous death. It made her question her own mortality and she was stuck with the question: "Will anyone remember me when I die? Will I be missed?" Mary was more homesick now than ever.

She had been excited to return to France. Her friends would be joining her as her ladies-in-waiting and she would be reunited with her betrothed Francis. In her naivety, she expected French court to be the exactly the same as she had left it. Why she had believed that was beyond her, but it was a thought that embedded itself in her heart and given her hope in her darkest moments while at convent. Now she knew it had been a silly dream. Intent on advancing their families through the social ranks, her friends were intent on finding a French lord to marry instead of spending time with her.

Francis.

Her childhood best friend did not want anything to do with her. He was adamant that they would not be married, that it was not in France's best interests. Initially, she had been beyond hurt. She was angry that she thought that he would be different than the other heirs, furious that she believed they were friends and would look out for each other. But after much contemplation, she was determined to change his mind. Scotland was in France's best interests.

Just when she thought that Francis was coming around to the idea that they could both have love and be rulers, an old flame of his returned to court.

She was back at step one.

* * *

The French excelled at throwing parties. Up and coming musicians, playwrights, and entertainers came from all over Europe in the hopes of impressing the King of France. It was the unspoken rule that if the King and Queen were impressed, gold and success would follow you for the rest of your days. The highborn ladies were always done up in the latest fashions. The dancing and wine flowed all night long.

Everyone's attention was focused on the golden-haired couple dancing at the centre of the hall. They moved together as one - graceful and poised - as if they were one entity. Their eyes never left each other's, lost in the magic of the moment. Watching them too long felt like you were intruding on a private moment behind closed doors.

"Did you sleep at all last night? You look absolutely dreadful."

Mary wrenched her eyes away from the couple. "Thank you, Kenna."

"You should not let him embarrass you. You are his betrothed," she said as she followed Mary's gaze. "Demand a dance."

"There is nothing that I can do to stop Francis from spending time with Olivia."

Her friend rolled her eyes. "Make him fall in love with you. You two share a longer, more complex history than he does with Olivia. Nothing will come of it if you do nothing."

She watched her future husband smile at Olivia - his first love - and was hit with a wave of nausea. When she looked away, her brown eyes caught blue. Sebastian had taken to staring at her lately, an undecipherable expression that both pleased and frustrated her. The King's favorite son. The bastard.

"I am not feeling well. Enjoy the ball, Kenna."

With one last look at the laughing fair-haired couple, Mary escaped to her bedchambers. Nothing was going the way she had planned it. Francis ignored her and did not want to marry her. King Henry never spoke to her. Queen Catherine despised her. She had not yet convinced them of her country's power.

Scotland would not be receiving aid from France anytime soon.

They were doomed.

* * *

She intended to ignore him when she caught sight of him at the end of the corridor. This was the only way to the library and she was in desperate need of a text. She had a proposal to write and did not want to commit a faux-pas.

"You left the ball early last night," Francis said as they passed each other.

"I was not feeling well," she said as she remembered his behavior.

He reached out to stop her, his blue eyes looking her over. "Are you ill? I can send Nostradamus to you."

"All I needed was rest. I am feeling much improved today."

She expecting him to let go of her arm and continue on his way. For the past few months, he had been too busy to speak with her. It was an excuse. The servants gossiped about his activities with Olivia and no matter how often she sought him out, he had given her the cold shoulder. It was clear he wanted his mistress, so why was he stopping her in the hallway?

"There is something else amiss. You used to resemble a lion with your fierceness, but now you have become quiet like a mouse. Has England sent you threats?" he asked reaching out to push a dark lock behind her ear.

She shied away from him. "I am homesick. My friends have found their own lives here, leaving me to contemplate my own."

"I will visit you more often," he said, his brow furrowed at her movement. "I have a meeting to attend with my father. I will call upon you soon."

Mary could not help the smile that appeared on her face. His grin matched hers and they held eye contact until he walked into the next corridor. It did not take her long to find the book she was searching for, but she hesitated before taking it. If Francis was talking to her, did that mean that his relationship with Olivia was ending? Would she need to write the proposal after all? After listing the pros and cons, she finally grabbed it and put it in one of her drawers, out of sight.

Francis did not talk to her again for another month.

* * *

"It is not safe to wander the corridors at night."

She turned around to face the man that had plagued her dreams of late. "I could say the same thing to you. Why are you awake at this hour?"

"I was answering the King's summons. I thought you had retired for the night."

Each word exchanged brought them one step closer to the other. His blue eyes gave everything away, but revealed nothing. They were face to face, her hand on his arm to steady herself. It would be so easy to kiss him, to end this back and forth between them.

To give in.

"Do it," he dared her.

Rising up on her tippy toes, her lips brushed the shell of his ear. "This has to end. It would get us both killed. Find another, for I shall never be yours."

With a swish of her gown, Mary strode back to her bedchambers leaving Sebastian to stare at the back of her head.

* * *

"There was another letter delivered to your bedchambers this morning," Lola said as they ate their picnic outdoors.

Mary's eyes widened. "Has it been read?"

"No. What are its contents?" she asked. "I have not seen you this nervous since your mother found out you freed one of her prisoners."

"It is of no importance. Who is your latest suitor?"

Lola blushed. "I do not know to what you are referring."

"I have seen you return to your bedchamber late at night. Is he a lord or a servant?"

"After what happened with Colin, I feel like any man that courts me is in danger. Until I am certain of his intentions, I will keep his identity a secret," she said looking down at her hands.

Despite her burning curiosity, Mary respected her closest friend's privacy. Colin brought back unpleasant memories of loneliness and paranoia.

* * *

The leaves were changing colors and her mother was not pleased with her as of late. Mary was no closer to sealing Scotland's alliance with France and threats of an uprising were brought up in each letter. She would need to figure out a solution soon. Throwing the letter on the desk, a knock interrupted her musing. Gathering her dress, she rose to greet her guest.

"Francis? What are you doing here?"

He walked around the room inspecting her possessions. She could not help the twinge of hope and annoyance that fluttered in her chest. Hope that he realized she was the woman he loved and annoyance that he had to strut around her bed chambers like he owned her.

"A Spanish ambassador has arrived-"

"And your father would like to make the impression that France has Scotland's support."

Francis sighed. "Yes. He has ordered us to attend the feast together despite our strained relationship."

"You are the only one to blame for that. I will join you at the feast shortly," Mary said dismissing him.

Keeping her chin raised, she watched him walk towards the door. Just before opening it, he turned to her. "Mind your tone with me. I will be the King one day and I will not tolerate that behavior from my wife."

"You are not my husband and you are not a king yet. My tone is mild considering your actions of late."

Suddenly, They were merely inches away from each other, an invisible string pulling them closer together. "I will marry you as required, but that does not mean that I have to give up what I have with Olivia. This is France, not Scotland."

She wanted to hit him, nearly did, but took a step back instead. The man in front of her was a stranger. The boy she grew up with would never try to hurt her the way the way Francis was now. When he was younger, he was full of life, curiosity, and kindness. Somewhere along the way, he had lost those qualities.

"You should end things with Olivia. We will be married one day and do we not owe it to ourselves to see if we could be happy? Before Olivia arrived, we were growing closer," she said softly. "What happened to you, Francis?"

"Life happened. You were sheltered in that convent, but I was here at court learning about my country. You cannot begin to imagine the difficulties that I went through, but Olivia was there for me. She supported me, gave me the confidence to be the person that I am today. France is my priority. We may never marry; betrothals create alliances. But Olivia will remain by my side regardless of the alliances my country needs."

"I can imagine the challenges you went through, because I am the Queen of Scotland. You are right. I have been stupid for placing my loyalty with you, for valuing our history together. No more. Inform your father that I am unwell and I will not be attending tonight's feast," Mary said walking back to her desk. "That is all."

"Do not be stupid, Mary. Our alliance is fragile as it is, do not strain it any further or our alliance will cease."

She turned around, her eyes dark. "Did you truly believe me to be pining away for you these past months? I have been building alliances with other royals. I waited to see if we could make this work between us, because I did truly care for you, but I see now that I have been blind. You do not care for me at all."

"Who will stand against England? Queen Elizabeth is too powerful for anyone other than France to stand up to her. Do not make a mistake you will regret."

"That is none of your concern. Scotland is my country, my responsibility, my concern. If you do not leave, I will report this."

The door slammed behind him and she sunk into her chair. It hurt her to say those words, but they were true.

Why should she stick around for France to support Scotland when King Henry was shutting her out of important discussions and Francis ignored her in favor of a mistress?

* * *

"King Henry has invited the newly crowned Queen Elizabeth of England to court," Greer said over tea.

Kenna almost spat out her tea. "Does he have a death wish for Mary?"

"Why am I the last one to hear of this?" Mary said.

Greer shrugged. "Leith was serving the King and Francis and overheard them speak of it. Do you believe they would ally themselves with England?"

"France and England have a complicated history," the Queen said. "Did Leith hear anything else?"

"No, he was sent from the room almost immediately."

Mary finished her cup of tea. "That is a shame."

* * *

"I will not tolerate your rebellious attitude while the Queen of England is at court," the King said in his study. "You will be on your best behaviour. We will show England that Scotland and France are a force to be reckoned with."

He did not bother to look at her, instead reading over documents. He was hunched over his desk, his strong figure illuminated in the candlelight. Part of Mary had always admired him. He was a strong, decisive ruler. The people respected him and he brought needed stability to France. Yet another part of her resented him. Since her father's death, she had looked to him to fill that paternal void. As a little girl, he made no time for her. Nothing had changed since her return to court.

"What I do not understand is what you will gain from bringing Elizabeth to court. There is a bounty on my head and you are delivering me right to her," Mary said as that thought dawned on her. "You want me to be out of the way so that Francis can marry Elizabeth."

"Do not be ridiculous, girl. You are my ward and under my protection. You are the rightful queen of England, not this protestant usurper. If you want to be a successful queen, you need to assess your opponent's strengths and weaknesses. Invite your enemy into your home, give them food and drink, and their weaknesses will play out before you."

Henry dropped the document and gave her his full attention; his brown eyes fixated on her own. It took several moments for his words to register and he laughed at the look of surprise on her face. The idea that he wanted to help her out had never once crossed her mind. She almost felt the swell of love and compassion when she realized one tiny detail.

"You want to control France, England, and Scotland under Catholic rule."

He smirked. "You are beginning to think like a ruler, not a woman. This opportunity was something that I have dreamed about since your mother first approached me with the betrothal contract. You will be in the welcoming party, attend every feast and event while the usurper is here. We will show England that we are strong, united. There will be consequences if you disobey me."

"On one condition, Olivia is not to be seen with Francis during Elizabeth's stay."

He dismissed her without another word and she quickly left the study. It would be too much for him to make a small promise, she thought sarcastically. At least she knew his plans, but how could she integrate them with her own?

* * *

"I have something to confess."

Mary gave her horse one last stroke before extending her right arm to her dearest friend. Lola took it and together, they walked towards the Queen of France's prize garden. An abundance of lilies, rosemary bushes, and roses rose to meet them.

"I have received a proposal from my suitor."

Mary stopped when they reached a bench. "You do not think I will approve. Who is it, Lola?"

"Bash. I know that he is a bastard, but I cannot help the way I feel about him."

Sebastian. Mary remembered the way he used to look at her, but he had stopped once she rejected him. Part of her was jealous that Lola now held his affection, but nothing could have ever come from the tension between her and Sebastian. At least the curly haired woman was not announcing that she was pregnant with Francis' child. Mary wanted to burst out laughing at the absurdity of Francis and Lola together, but managed to keep a straight face.

"Sebastian is a worthy man. I will bless your union."

* * *

Auburn.

The Queen of England stepped out of the carriage and Mary could not help but think back to when she had been in Elizabeth's shoes. It had only been six months ago, yet it felt like an eternity had passed. The brunette had been so full of hope, life, and love. France had been her home since she was a little girl and she expected it to have remained stagnant, waiting for her return.

How naive she had been.

She waited for the signal before strolling through the manicured lawn and took her place beside Francis. He offered Mary his arm and she took it after being on the receiving end of Queen Catherine's glare. The King of France and the Queen of England both bowed to each other. A nod to both Mary and Catherine were given before the King escorted the redheaded queen into the castle.

"Where is Olivia?" Mary asked as Francis led her inside.

He continued to look ahead. "My father has forbidden her from being seen in my presence during the Queen's stay."

"I see."

In another life, she could see Francis offering his protection now that the English were at court. He had always imagined himself as a knight swooping in to save his damsel. Was Mary too independent that he had to turn to Olivia to fulfill this fantasy?

"My father told me that he informed you of our plans."

Mary laughed, a sarcastic one that sounded ugly even to her ears. "You mean your father's plan. Yes, I am aware."

"Then you know that we will need to be a team. We will need to cease these political mind games until the Queen of England leaves," he said, his blue eyes assessing her as if he finally considered her a worthy ally.

"Are you scared of losing?" she teased, before accepting his extended arm. "Let us see what trouble we can cause the English."

After changing into suitable attire for the Welcome Feast, Mary found Francis waiting for her outside of the Main Hall. Her arm wrapped around his, they entered the hall together. Whispers broke out and it would be heard across the land what a sight the betrothed couple made. Golden and Dark. Blue and Brown. Two opposites that melded together to make something beautiful.

Yet, the couple in question did not share this view. They were two enemies - once childhood sweethearts - that had united for a single cause. Yet both had ulterior motives and their own agenda.

Hidden in the shadows, a blonde woman trembled with fury.

 **If you have made it to the end, please review.**


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you rinnie21, Baxley, Freedom and Hope, Camille, peachme, Alextheballerina, and guests for the lovely reviews. I'm sorry it took me so long to get this one out. Enjoy!

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 **Chapter 2**

A cloaked figure stalked the corridors, keeping to the shadows. The full moon shone through the window giving the castle an ethereal, silvery glow. Only the guards were awake, making their rounds. Hearing the clanking of metal, she quickly ducked behind a tapestry and tried to calm her breathing. The armoured men were clumsy in their walking and passed the tapestry without a second glance. She counted to one hundred before resuming her journey. The guards would not be back in this area of the castle for at least an hour. Walking with light steps, she caught sight of her destination and hurried to the door. Three knocks later and the door opened. She pushed her way into the room and took off her cloak.

"Mary Stuart. You are either incredibly brave or stupid."

The Queen of Scotland took a step towards the room's occupant. "And you are arrogant for sending your guards away tonight, Elizabeth Tudor."

"They can be recalled at a moment's notice," the Queen of England said. The two women stared at each other before bursting into laughter. "Mary, my dear cousin. You look lovely."

"There are no need for pleasantries. I am strictly here on business."

"Have a seat," Elizabeth said guiding her to the sitting area.

Mary looked around the dimly lit room, half expecting King Henry to appear out of nowhere. She could picture the fury on his face when he found out that she had gone behind his back. Their discussion had the power to sever the alliance between Scotland and France permanently. Was she willing to risk it? But then she remembered the treatment she had received at French court and made up her mind.

"You need to pull back your troops on Scotland's border at once."

* * *

A slight nod in her direction from King Henry meant that they needed to up their game. Francis inched towards her so that he was standing behind her. He was so close that she could feel the contour of his chest. Mary hated that he still had the power to affect her. She tried to focus on the festivities around her - the dancing and singing - but her mind kept returning to the man behind her.

"Her men do not look happy that you are here," Francis said.

Mary turned so that her lips faintly touched his cheek. "Of course not. I am the rightful Queen of England and can unseat the usurper if I wish."

Their display drew the eyes of the nobles and she could hear the whispers start. Queen Elizabeth glanced at her before resuming her conversation with King Henry. France and England. The two countries that could both save or destroy Scotland. Mary was involved with dangerous, powerful people. Her ladies-in-waiting were each talking to eligible, wealthy men and she prayed that they found husbands quickly.

If Mary lost the game, she would pay with her life and Scotland would be lost.

* * *

"I overheard one of the guards say that Queen Elizabeth has been having secret meetings," Aylee said once the servant left.

Lola glanced at Mary before returning her attention to their friend. "Who has been in attendance?"

"No one knows," Aylee explained. "The Queen is skilled at being discreet. I fear there is a plot on Mary's life."

Greer gasped. "Surely King Henry is aware of the risk and has taken measures against it."

"The King has increased my guard since Queen Elizabeth's arrival. Thank you for informing me, Aylee. I am lucky to have such devoted friends," Mary smiled. "Where is Kenna?"

The girls glanced uneasily at each other when they thought Mary was not looking.

"She is feeling unwell," Greer finally answered.

"I see."

* * *

It was on her fourth visit that Mary began to warm up to Elizabeth. The English royalty had always viewed her as a threat and Mary was used to being on her guard around the English. It was how she had survived the attempts on her life and it was a hard habit to break.

"Your engagement to the Dauphin seems to be going well."

Torn on how to answer, Mary took this time to add sugar to her tea. King Henry had been adamant that Scotland and France appear as strong allies. Her and Francis had worked hard to create that illusion despite the growing tension between them. Mary was proud of their effort. Their supposed love story had spread like wildfire throughout the castle.

"That will soon change once King Henry discovers our treaty. I fear my betrothal to Francis will end."

"Would that be such a terrible thing? He has already acquired a mistress before your marriage," Elizabeth said, her eyes trained on her.

Mary hid her reaction, but her blood boiled. If word had reached the Queen of England, then every royal in Europe would be aware. The humiliation Francis had caused her was public knowledge. "Indeed he has."

"What have you done to remedy the situation?"

"There is nothing to be done. Everything that I have tried has only pushed him further away. Olivia is his first love," she said, swallowing the lump in her throat.

"You can do better than that, Mary. You are the Queen of Scotland and she is a mere noblewoman. It is time you acted your part."

* * *

"Who could have imagined that one day your lady-in-waiting would become my father's mistress."

Mary turned to Francis. "Pardon me?"

His lips quirked into a grin and she felt her stomach drop at the sight. "The Queen of Scotland cannot keep tabs on her own ladies-in-waiting. How sad."

Her skin was flushed as anger gave way to fury. Francis brightened when he saw that his words had the desired effect. Thoughts bombarded her and she had trouble making sense of them. The one clear, resounding thought was that she truly hated her betrothed. He had done nothing but cause her misery since arrival at court when she had done nothing to deserve it.

Mary was about to reply, but chose to walk away. They were stuck in this vicious cycle of hurting each other and tolerance. She made it to the corridor before a hand grabbed her arm and spun her around.

"Where are you going?"

Mary pushed his arm away. "Away from you. I am so sick of this, Francis. How did we get to this point?"

All anger disappeared from his face. His hand ran through his blonde curls, a sign that he was not only uncomfortable but taking her seriously. The music and laughter trailed out of the hall each time the servants opened and closed the doors. When it became clear that Francis was not going to say anything, she turned around and walked away.

The further she got, the faster her strides were until she was running back to her bedchambers. She hated that he finally got to her. This was one comment too many and her heart was shattered. It was not until she was safely behind her closed door that she let out the tears that demanded to be freed. A heart wrenching sob echoed across the room as she collapsed onto her bed. She missed home. She missed home and her childhood and her friends and the way things used to be.

She was so caught up in this pain that she nearly jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand rub her back. His blue eyes were filled with regret, pain, and sadness. Even now when they were pitted against each other, he seemed to be the only one that understood her. His hand caressed her cheek and she hated herself for leaning into it, for drawing strength from him.

But right now they were the only two people that existed. He was in just as much pain as she was in and she wanted to take it away. Not knowing who had started it, their lips met. He pulled her onto his lap as the kiss deepened and they were so intertwined she didn't know where he ended and she began. She did not know how long they sat together before he pulled away from her.

Francis guided her so that they were lying together under the sheets, his arm wrapped around her. Mary buried her head into his chest as she tried to memorize this moment. She had no memory of being held as a child, had never felt so safe and secure. His breathing slowed as sleep overtook him and she was lulled to sleep.

* * *

The unsigned treaty was staring up at her from her desk as she contemplated her next move. It was exactly as she and Queen Elizabeth had discussed. They were both to gain from this agreement and the cost was minimal. If she signed this, she would be making history. But whether this treaty would be sustainable or cause anger with the other countries...

France would not forget this.

Was it worth it?

* * *

Moans and groans stopped her in her tracks. Flesh hitting flesh, giggles, and an "I love you" made her shut her eyes and count to ten. She had to be strong. Wiping a stray tear from her cheek, she stepped into the room. The couple did not notice her, too wrapped up within each other, and she coughed to make her presence known.

"Fuck," he said as they quickly separated and got dressed. Mary wanted to turn around, to forget this. She was not a confrontational person, but she could not be weak. She pictured Elizabeth: strength, leadership, and confidence. The type of leader she had always wanted to be.

"I am leaving French court in the morning.," she said as her cold brown eyes swept across the blonde couple.

Memories of her and Francis during these past few weeks sprung up in her mind, but she quickly buried them. She could not show weakness.

"Olivia, give us a moment."

The blonde woman was about to object, but a look from Francis sent her from the room. The door clicked shut and it was only the two of them.

"Mary, you don't mean this. "

She laughed. It was either laugh or cry and she was tired of crying. "Yes, I do. After that night, I thought things had changed between us. I was willing to forget the past few months, start anew. I am so tired of being the fool, Francis."

He reached out to her, but she flinched. Her reaction spoke volumes. "I was confused. Olivia was my first love, the first person that I could rely on when I needed help. But you came back to court and you were regal, wild, beautiful. Everything a king could want in a wife."

"Then why did you turn to Olivia? Why are you so intent on destroying me?"

"Because it does not matter if we hate or love each other. We will be married once our parents are in agreement. Being with you involves expectations, politics, duty, and it is enough pressure to lose my sanity."

"A duty? Do you think I asked for this fate?" Mary asked. "I am just as trapped by alliances, politics, and expectations as you are. No matter how difficult this was, I never was weak enough to get involved with someone else. At its simplest, you are my friend and I respected you too much to hurt you. No more."

They were face-to-face, faces flushed as they tried to catch their breath. It would be so easy to reach up to him, to satisfy the tension between them, but he ruined any chance of that. Understanding flashed through his blue eyes as she pulled away and walked out of his bedchambers, out of his life. She heard his furious yell and the sound of crashing, but she kept going.

When she got to her room, she signed the document and dispatched it to Elizabeth by a trusted carrier.

Mary rushed out of the room before he could try to make things better between them. Because things would never be fixed between them, he shattered her heart.

The French were good at saying what you wanted to hear, but never followed through. A lesson she would not forget.

* * *

"Rumour has it that you are leaving France."

Mary did not turn around. "Rumour has it you are engaged."

Sebastian took a seat next to her. "You told me to move on, I did. I heard you did not find such luck with my brother."

"I am not talking about this with you," Mary said rising from her seat, but he grabbed her arm.

"If not me, then who? Lola told me that you have been distant lately. Whom have you been confiding in?" When no answer came, he patted the seat next to him. "That is what I thought. Talk to me, you know that I will be objective. I have nothing to gain."

Mary sat down. "That is a lie. There is always something to gain. Not only are you Francis' brother, but also French. What I decide will impact your life."

"When we were younger, you always used to play with Francis and I to the dismay of Queen Catherine. You and Francis used to fight all the time. You were wild and he was tame, always opposites. But when there was a real issue in the castle, you and Francis always teamed up. You were an indestructible force. Now I don't know what my idiot of a brother did, but this much I know. No matter what you choose, if you should ever need France's help and he is the King, he will be at your side."

He stood up and started walking away, leaving her with the grief of what the future could have been.

"Please do not hurt Lola."

He paused. "I love her. She is safe with me."

He lingered for a moment, before disappearing into the castle.


	4. Chapter 4

**Oh, How the Mighty Fall**

 **Chapter 3**

* * *

The silence in the throne room was deafening. The King and Queen of France sat in their respective chairs and Francis sat at the King's right. The entire court was in attendance, having heard the rumours that surrounded her and Queen Elizabeth. Francis refused to look her in the eye, while the King's stare never wavered. This was dangerous, but she had no other choice. Scotland needed a powerful ally.

"Your Majesty, I will not waste any more of your time today. I am here to request the dissolution of the betrothal contract between myself and the Dauphin of France, Francis."

Gasps and whispers broke the tense silence and she ignored the urge to shift uncomfortably at the attention. The King did not answer immediately, but glanced at Francis before addressing her. "On what grounds?"

"I was promised a marriage to the Dauphin since I was six years old. I am well past a marriageable age, yet I remain unwed. I have repeatedly asked for France's support during times of crisis in Scotland, yet I have been refused on every occasion," Mary said, before glancing at Francis. "Not only have you not provided the promised support, but my reputation has been marred by your son."

"I will not have accusations-"

Mary glared at him. "This is a discussion between Kings and Queens, not Crown Princes."

"My son has a right to defend himself!" Queen Catherine snapped.

Before Mary could reply, the King shushed his wife. "I refuse your demand. You are a guest at court. You are not married to my son, therefore he can behave as he sees fit. The English armies will attack your borders the minute that your betrothal is dissolved."

The doors burst open cutting off her reply. A group of knights entered the throne room and the French guards unsheathed their swords. Beautiful auburn hair shone brightly in the middle of the newcomers. Mary smiled at the confusion. The Queen of England strode to Mary's side and linked her arm with the Queen of Scotland.

"You will release the Queen of Scotland immediately. She is under our protection," King Henry said standing up.

Elizabeth smiled. "You are mistaken. My cousin is under _my_ protection. You will dissolve the betrothal between the Queen of Scotland and the Dauphin or risk the wrath of two countries today."

The redhead's smile was feral and her voice echoed with an authority that Queen Catherine had never achieved. The King looked furious, but commanded his guards to stand down. Queen Catherine was smiling, jubilant that Mary would no longer be her daughter-in-law. Francis paled at the announcement.

Mary had been part of this family's lives since she was a child and she had mixed feelings. The relationship between her and Francis was broken and King Henry would never see her as his daughter now. There was nothing that Henry could do with Elizabeth present. A war between France and England would be costly.

"Mary Stuart, Queen of Scots, I hereby release you from your betrothal to Francis Valois."

The scribe hastily wrote the order and the King signed it in front of his entire court. Victorious. Glancing at Elizabeth, they left the throne room before Henry changed his mind. The cousins had planned for every outcome the night before, their belonging packed and loaded on carriages.

They would leave within the hour.

* * *

"You are making a grave mistake."

Mary did not turn around at the newcomer, but continued to look at the grounds she had played on as a child. She visited her old haunts one last time before departing France. After much discussion, she decided to spend time at English court. She needed to learn about England's customs and traditions in order to support her new ally and Elizabeth would learn about Scotland's as well.

"I cannot say this is unexpected. My decision is final."

Kenna grabbed her arm. "Please do not do this. The English are not to be trusted. You would know that if you had grown up in Scotland."

"Are you suggesting that I do not know my own subjects?" Mary asked facing her.

"No. That is not what I meant. France has been our allies since we were children. I am certain that the King would have announced your marriage to Francis shortly. This will change everything."

Mary removed Kenna's hand from her arm. "Yes, things will change. I have given it much thought and consideration, but I do not need to justify my decisions to you. You have grown bold since becoming the King's latest mistress."

Her lady-in-waiting did not respond. Instead of being embarrassed at being caught, Kenna stared at her in defiance.

"Did you believe I would not notice your absences? Rumours have spread and your reputation is known throughout France," Mary said. She wanted Kenna to realize the mistake she was making by attaching herself to King Henry. She had known the King much longer than her friend had. Although Kenna was new and exciting to the King, no one would replace Diane. All it would take to drop Kenna would be a visit from Sebastian's mother.

"I do not care. We are in love. He has offered me a place here and I would be under his protection. His confidante," Kenna said.

"If you accept his offer, then you will become a French subject. I will not be able to aid you if King Henry finds fault with you," Mary explained, willing Kenna to understand the consequences that she would face. "You will no longer be a Scot."

"Scotland will not have a future now that you have sullied it with an English alliance."

Mary sighed. "So be it."

There was nothing else she could do to warn Kenna of the mistake she was making. Mary wanted to shield her friends from heartbreak and danger, but each time she attempted to do so, it drove her friends away. Kenna had made her choice and would have to live with that decision.

Mary left and visited the rest of her ladies-in-waiting. There would be no need to follow her to England. She would release them from their duties.

* * *

Mary was surprised to find a party of people outside of her carriage, waiting to say goodbye. She expected her ladies-in-waiting, but there were others there as well. Francis was staring at everything but her. She looked for the King, but knew that he would be too angry to see her. Kenna was also missing, most likely with Henry. Lola was the first to run up to her and embrace her.

"Are you certain you do not want me to come with you? I know that you have signed a treaty with Queen Elizabeth, but there are those that will not accept an alliance. You will be in more danger at English court."

Mary smiled. "You are engaged to be married. Your life is here now. I will miss you, but I take comfort in your happiness."

Lola released her with tears in her eyes, but nodded. She found comfort in Sebastian's arms and Mary gave the couple a watery smile. Aylee and Greer both came up and hugged her. Mary clung to her childhood friends. "I will miss you both."

"I will return to Scotland and spread the word on how our Queen is fighting for us every day at English court," Aylee said.

Greer laughed. "We will miss you too. Remember the advice that we gave you!"

Mary released them. Bash and her friends gave her one last goodbye before disappearing into the castle, leaving her alone with Francis. Mary wanted to run into the carriage to avoid this. There was too much to say, yet nothing at the same time. His blue eyes were full of emotion and she remembered all the reasons that she fell in love with him. She had spent her life engaged to Francis and with this parting came the death of their future, their dreams, and ruling by his side.

He crushed her to his chest in the tightest hug she had ever received. She let herself relax into his embrace one last time, but stepped back when it became clear that he had no intention of releasing her. "Goodbye Francis."

"I made a mistake. It seems fitting that I realize how much I love you and need you by my side the moment that you decide to leave," he said grabbing her hand. "I am sorry for the pain that I have caused you and I will make it my life's mission to regain your forgiveness and love."

Mary let go of his hand. "How many times have I heard these words? Francis, you broke us so completely that I do not think that it can be fixed. Thank you for your apology, but I am moving on with my life."

She walked away from him and he answered her right before she entered the carriage. "I will find a way to fix what I have broken, Mary. You will do great things in England. I will see you soon."

Mary did not answer and one of the servants shut the door behind her. The carriage started moving and she could see Francis. He was still standing in the same spot and stood there until she could no longer see him. She let out a sigh. Her childhood was nearing its end.

"You should have told him that Olivia was a spy."

Mary did not look at her cousin. "It was not my place. I am no longer allied with France. Besides, Queen Catherine invited her to court. It would have been my word against hers."

"Your word holds more weight than you realize. But alas, Olivia has fled French court and returned to Italy before her designs could be discovered."

"Tell me more about England," Mary requested and the rest of the journey was filled with stories of Elizabeth's youth. It was a welcome distraction from the tears that threatened to fall. She was leaving everything she knew and loved for an uncertain future. She took comfort in Elizabeth's presence. The bond between the cousins had grown with each passing day and it felt like her troubles were over now that Elizabeth was by her side. Little did they know that the real trouble was beginning.

* * *

Only embers remained in the fireplace, giving the room heat but no light. The room's occupant was silent, waiting. The door opened shortly afterwards. The newcomer took a seat across from the occupant. Neither said a word until they heard the guards walk past and waited five minutes as a precaution. They could not be seen together or they would be branded traitors.

"The Queen of Scotland agreed to an alliance?"

"Those are the words whispered across the countryside. She is on route to England now. The Pope will never allow this to stand. We must act swiftly," a male voice said.

"The nerve of that girl! I would have her head," the woman replied, her voice trembling with rage. "How dare she spit on those who gave her power?"

The male laughed. "Do not worry, darling. Your wish is my command."


	5. Chapter 5

Spent the last few hours watching Frary videos on youtube. I miss them.

* * *

 **Oh, How the Mighty Fall**

 **Chapter 4**

* * *

If she closed her eyes, Mary could pretend that she was still in France. King Henry chuckling with Sebastian. Queen Catherine glaring at her. Mary and Francis were either laughing or fighting depending on the day. Her friends would entertain her with the latest gossip and she was home. But, the image would disappear when she opened her eyes.

There was no going back.

* * *

England was not the new beginning she imagined. The food was bland, the people shied away from her, and the French she had been accustomed to speaking was useless. It was also clear that she was unwelcome. Whispers followed her everywhere.

"Did you know the Dauphin threw her out?"

"I heard she was caught in the bastard's bed."

"She's too quiet. Nothing like our Queen."

Their criticism echoed in her thoughts, and her self-doubt and fear grew as each day passed. The wild, stubborn girl she had been in France had all but vanished.

* * *

Mary finds him in a field of white roses. His back to her, his blond hair glowing in the sunlight. She reaches out to him, calls out, but he does not turn around. Grabbing her black skirt, Mary runs through the flowers, the thorns catching her skin.

He moves further and further away.

"Francis! Wait!"

Out of breath, the only thing driving her is the need to see him. She misses him, longs for a man that will never be hers. Francis turns around and the moment he does, the field of roses turn red and darkness overtakes her.

Mary woke up gasping, tears running down her cheeks.

* * *

"She does not belong here."

Her cousin had invited her to the private council meeting and Mary regretted her decision to attend. The council included Francis Walsingham, Robert Dudley, and William Cecil. Walsingham was Elizabeth's right hand man. He knew everything about everyone and when he did not, he made great use of the dungeons. Dudley's presence was a mystery. He owned lands and title, but Mary was uncertain as to why he had been chosen. Cecil was one of the men who helped Elizabeth secure the throne. He was a traditionalist and possessed a wealth of knowledge from his experience in the courts. These were the men that advised the Queen of England.

Elizabeth held up her hand to silence any arguments. "England and Scotland are allies. The Queen of Scots needs to be brought up to date on matters of English court."

"Until her loyalty is proven, it is best that she does not know our state secrets," Walsingham said.

Dudley agreed. "The regular council meetings I understand, but this is overkill. I know you want to be closer to your family. This is not the way."

"It is my decision to make and it is final. The Queen of Scots will be part of this council from this moment forward."

* * *

Crumpling the letter, Mary stuffed it into her pocket. This was the fifth letter that expressed her mother's fury at terminating the alliance with France. Marie De Guise wanted her to return to French court at once. She could then seduce Francis into renewing their betrothal. Her mother still had control of her country, despite her regency ending. Mary had learned the mechanics of French court, while she ruled Scotland and its people. Focused on her anger, she did not notice a man approaching until he took a seat next to her.

"I have not given you leave to sit beside me."

He laughed, running a hand through his wavy, black hair. "Feisty. I heard rumours of such, but you can never trust gossip. I have been looking forward to making your acquaintance for some time."

The attractive man did not get the hint. Her frustration grew and she tried to hide her trembling hands. There was nowhere she could go to be alone. Each time she had found a haven, Elizabeth disturbed it before she could get too comfortable. Mary felt claustrophobic, the walls closing in on her and she needed to breathe. This tree in the courtyard had been her recluse for the past few days and now this man ruined it.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Philip. Have you enjoyed your stay at court?" he asked, his brown eyes twinkling in amusement.

Mary sighed. "I am certain you are a nice man, but I would like to be alone right now."

"Then I will do as you command. I will see you at the feast," he said.

She watched him leave and wondered at the lack of respect he had shown her. He had not addressed her by title, nor asked her permission to sit next to her. Releasing a breath, she returned to the letter. Mary needed to remind her mother that she was the Queen and the days of Marie de Guise reign were over. The alliance with France was over and her mother would need to accept that.

And she would need to find a new haven.

* * *

The feast was already underway when Mary entered the hall. She strode to the high table and took a seat at Elizabeth's left side.

"I have someone I would like you to meet," her cousin said with a tight smile. "This is the King of Spain."

Elizabeth leaned back and Mary almost knocked over her goblet in surprise. Philip extended his hand out to her. "I am delighted to make your acquaintance once more."

She shook his hand and pulled it back quickly as if burned. The redhead quirked an eyebrow at her odd behaviour, but Mary ignored it. The court jester began juggling and she pretended to focus her attention on him. The two royals were quiet before resuming their conversation. Philip was gesturing wildly and Elizabeth's terse smile remained. It was clear there was a history there.

Mary's cheeks were red as she realized how poor the King of Spain's first impression of her must be. She should have recognized the long scar on his cheek.

* * *

Walsingham sought her out the next day. She was on her way to see a play in the courtyard when he intercepted her. This play's success had spread throughout the kingdom and her heart dropped when she realized she was to miss it. But, Mary needed to earn the council's trust. Her heart raced as he led her down an abandoned hallway. Her instincts told her she could trust him, but her imagination went wild.

He stopped suddenly and turned to face her. Despite his greying hair, there was something in his demeanour that screamed power. She was tempted to take a step back, away from him, but held her ground.

"The Pope has a new ally. You will need to take care in the upcoming days, your Grace."

"Who is it?"

His green eyes assessed her, before he answered. "My informant did not know his identity, but it is in reaction to your alliance with the Queen."

"Why are you sharing this with me? You have made it clear that I am not welcome in England."

"I do not think you will betray the Queen. If you do, I will take my time killing you," Walsingham said.

His smile sent shivers down her spine. Before she could answer, he walked away.

* * *

The memory of Francis haunted her. Her dreams were filled with his rejection and her mind kept drifting to him during the day. She wondered what he was doing and if he was already promised to another. Mary retreated into herself the longer she was away from France. The Queen of England made it her duty to help Mary with her heartbreak. There were days that she wanted to stay in bed all day, but her cousin forced her to attend court. It was a challenging time in their relationship. Mary was difficult, Elizabeth stubborn.

* * *

She waited for a letter from Francis that never came. Her friends sounded happy in their letters and a small part of her hated them for residing in France. There were times that she was tempted to return to Scotland, but the fear of the unknown stopped her. Scotland was but a childhood memory. France was the only home she had known, a place she could never return. She was lost. This continued on for some time, before her cousin put her foot down.

"This is pathetic. You are the Queen of Scotland, yet you are acting like a child. I respected your grief, but it has been six months. You need to move on with your life. Stop being the victim and become the ruler you were meant to be," Elizabeth snapped, after Mary refused to get out of bed for the second day in a row.

She did not get up. "You don't understand what it's like. You have never been in love, spent your whole life betrothed to your best friend only to have him betray you."

The silence that followed was eerie.

"I have known love and I have had my heart broken. To make matters worse, I have to see him every single day and be reminded of our history. If you are so unhappy here, then leave."

Elizabeth slammed the door shut behind her and Mary sunk into her mattress and cried. Her depression was destroying everything she touched, everything she held dear. But her cousin's words resounded in her head and she forced herself out of bed. After washing up and getting ready for the day, Mary made a vow. From this day forward, she would no longer allow her emotions to rule her. Her behaviour of late was detrimental to Scotland.

With each new sunrise, her grief and longing lessened until it disappeared.

She would be the master of her own future _._

* * *

"May I join you?"

Mary looked up from her book and heat rose to her cheeks. "Of course. I am sorry for offending you on our last meeting. I did not realize who you were."

He sat down next to her. She was sitting under her favourite tree that overlooked her cousin's abundant garden. The flowers were in full bloom, but the nights were growing colder. The petals would soon fall.

"It was refreshing. Not many people dare to anger me," King Philip said with a smile. "What are you reading?"

"A journal written by Elizabeth's father. I wanted to know what kind of man he was."

His dark eyes watched her intently. "And what is your opinion?"

"That is yet to be determined," she said, not understanding the flutter in her chest.

The rest of the evening was spent in pleasant conversation. The King of Spain was an intelligent, articulate, well-educated man and his age gave him experience that she lacked. For the first time since her arrival, her mind did not turn to Francis.

This was the beginning of her close friendship with the King of Spain.

If she had known the ruin this would bring her, Mary would have avoided him. But, the future was not known to her and she enjoyed her time with Philip greatly.

* * *

The journey was long, but the Dauphin did not stop. He had made mistakes that he needed to atone for. He had spent the past eight months under his father's wing, learning the King's duties and responsibilities. The King was a hard man, but his reign had provided France with stability and an opportunity to grow. It was a legacy that he was not certain he could fill, but he had no choice. Francis had joined his father on campaigns, attended council meetings, and held court under the King's watchful eye. These experiences gave him wisdom and confidence that he had been sorely lacking. He learned what mattered to his people and they started to trust his judgment. As Francis grew, his relationship with the King became closer. There was only one thing left that Francis needed to do.

His father was pushing him to marry an eligible queen, princess, or lady.

"Mary has made her choice and now, you must move on. There are other women more beautiful and intelligent."

Francis did not give in. "I forced her into making that choice. I will win her back."

It was a letter that had prompted him to act. He would never be worthy of Mary - it did not matter how many things he learned or experience he gained - but it was time for the next part of his plan. The closer they got, the more nervous he became.

He saw a city up ahead and kept a straight face.

"Welcome to English court."


	6. Chapter 6

Thank you for your wonderful reviews! I am sorry it has taken me so long to update this story. I promise that it will not be abandoned!

* * *

 **Oh, How the Mighty Fall**

by somekindofwildgirl

* * *

 **Chapter 5**

The world was silent, so quiet that it almost hurt her ears. Everything around her disappeared as she caught sight of him. Mary had been in the middle of a healthy debate with Lord and Lady Jefferson. Her life was finally back on track. She found meaning here in England and no longer ached for France. Mary was positive that Philip was going to propose any day and she would accept. He was everything she wanted in a husband and she began to think that her heartbreak had put Francis on a pedestal. That thought flew out the window when she saw him.

He was walking across the room - looking for something or someone - when their eyes met. Francis had been looking for her and now that he found her, he started walking towards her and then hesitated. Mary longed to rush to him, but her legs were like lead. He looked exactly the same, but there was something different about him. He stood like a warrior, his blue eyes scanning the room every few minutes and a sword at his side.

It was too much to process, to think about. Elizabeth stood near the door and shook her head when she saw Mary contemplate escaping. Her cousin would bar her exit. Mary did the next best thing, she snuck outside and took the long and cold way back to her bedchambers.

No matter how she longed to see him and hear his voice - something that she had already forgotten - Mary could not forgive him.

* * *

"Everyone has been worried about you," he said as he joined her on the balcony. "You should come inside before you catch a chill."

Mary could not bear to turn around and face him. She had forgotten the sound of his voice, the way his voice grew soft around her. She could feel his presence behind her and it was agonizing. Francis represented her childhood, knew her better than anyone, and refused to let her move on.

"Are you going to continue to ignore me?"

Fury seized her and she spun around to face him. It was so much worse seeing him up close, his blue eyes staring at her with such concern. Mary hated him with such an intensity that it surprised her. "What did you expect? That you would show up and that everything would be resolved between us? We could go on like nothing had happened?"

"I realized that yesterday. It was a fool's dream," he said and she felt her small hope at his appearance shatter. But he continued. "I know that I have made mistakes, the biggest was letting you go without a fight. The past six months have been hard without you. I realized that you are my best friend and the love of my life and I screwed that up. All I am asking is a chance to prove to you that we are meant to be together."

Tears filled her eyes and she could not stop them from falling. Those were the words she had dreamt of hearing for as long as she could remember. Mary wanted to collapse into his arms and end the suffering their separation had caused. But Francis had done more than mistakes, he had hurt her time and time again. Mary was becoming a leader, a true queen, and she loved him more than was wise. If she married him, she was terrified that he would destroy her. Because Mary would give him all of her.

He reached out to wipe her tears before taking a step back. "Trust me, Mary."

"I cannot," Mary said taking a step back to that there was even more space between them. "King Philip will propose to me any day and I plan on accepting."

"I see." Francis said. He bid her goodnight before disappearing.

She stayed on the balcony far too long than was wise. The cold weather bit into her skin, but she could not move. Francis had offered her everything she had ever wanted and she had rejected him. Had that been wise? Her mind and heart were at war.

But she could not longer use her heart to guide her decisions. Mary was a ruler and France had disappointed her time and time again.

* * *

"How could you invite him here?" Mary yelled as she stormed into Elizabeth's bedchambers.

The Queen was staring out of the window and turned around. "Your manners are sorely lacking. You should never lose your temper no matter how justified it is."

"I was finally coming to terms with my past and now-"

"England and France have been enemies for quite some time. I am looking to cease the tension between our two countries. I know that you and Francis have a history, but it was inevitable," Elizabeth said.

Shame filled her as her words sunk in. "You are not trying to get me to reconsider Francis?"

"Your romantic interests are your business, Mary. I am sorry that I have caused you hurt. If there had been any other way, I would have taken it, I promise you."

"I apologize for my outburst. I did not think he still affected me this way," Mary admitted.

Elizabeth smiled. "Apology accepted. Could you help me plan my speech for tomorrow's feast?"

Mary joined her cousin at her desk and assisted the redhead, but her mind kept drifting to a blond that was somewhere in the castle.

* * *

The council was tense. Mary wondered if it had been the addition of her advisor, Albert MacDonald. He had arrived from Scotland a week ago. Albert was someone she trusted, a man who had been her father's advisor and knew Scotland intimately. Queen Elizabeth kept glancing at Walsingham. Dudley stared at the table in front of him, while Cecil was strangely quiet. Only Albert seemed oblivious to the general mood of the council. No one looked at her.

"Does someone want to tell me why we have gathered here today?" Mary asked.

Walsingham and Elizabeth looked at each other before he cleared his throat. "Has King Philip discussed his relationship to the Pope with you?"

"Yes, they are very close. That is not a secret."

"Where is the King now?" Dudley asked.

Mary's fingernails dug into her palms. "He had trouble with one of his nobles so he left to deal with him. Are you accusing him of conspiring with the Pope?"

"We have our suspicions," Elizabeth finally said. "I think that you should reject his proposal."

"You were the one that pushed me to consider it," Mary said, raising her voice.

The redhead sighed. "I know. That was a mistake. How well do we know Philip? Scotland and England are allies. I do not see the need to ally yourself with Spain when it would only cause problems between our two countries."

"What problems?"

"Do you think that he will continue to support the tolerance of religions with his close ties to the Pope?" Elizabeth asked. "He stands for everything that I oppose."

The others were silent, but Mary knew that they agreed with the Queen of England. The tension in the room was overwhelming. She had fought tooth and nail to gain their trust, to show that she could make sound decisions. "Why did you invite me to sit on the council if you are going to continue to hide things from me? I do not deserve this treatment. If you do not share the information you are withholding, then I will leave."

The silence that greeted her was enough. Mary stood up and strode out of the room. She had started to believe that she belonged on the council, that her and Elizabeth were truly family. England was a second home to her, a place that welcomed and helped her grow.

It was clear that her trust and acceptance was not mutual.

* * *

"My sources tell me that the Dauphin of France has come to court."

Mary wanted to avoid the subject. Philip knew how difficult it had been for her to leave France. He was the one person that had helped her let go of Francis and she knew how proud he had been of her lately. The look in his eyes made it clear that he knew how much this was affecting her. But she smiled anyways.

"He is here on my cousin's invitation, not mine," she said, an attempt at nonchalance. Her cousin's words rang in her head. After spending the last six months with Philip, she could not believe that he was conspiring against them. But was she the fool if everyone else on the council believed him guilty? Was the knowledge they were withholding from her enough to prove his duplicity?

"I see. If the Dauphin bothers you, let me know," Philip said with a smile.

"Thank you. I will," Mary answered.

There was nothing to indicate that he was working with the Pope. Her cousin and her men were wrong.

* * *

 **I already have half the next chapter written, but I wanted to get this posted sooner :). What did you think?**


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